So What If We Kissed Once?
by Nintendo Queen
Summary: Set after the events of the doujinshi "Don't Think I'm Yours Just Because We Kissed Once," America and England are still at odds. And when America lets his anger get the better of him, it's up to good old France and Japan to intervene on this hopeless couple...again. USUK AU Cover image from doujinshi "Don't Think I'm Yours Just Because We Kissed Once"


**This really was just on a whim, but I've been in a huge Hetalia mood since Khaotic Kon, and in even more of a Britain x America mood. So, I found this really friggin adorable doujin on youtube called "Don't Think I'm Yours Just Because We Kissed" and the ending…well, I want a sequel! But as far as I know, no sequel has been made. So what's the logical response? FANFICTION!**

**(Btw, for any of you who happen to be reading my "Bond of the Guardians" fanfic, a new chapter is in the works. Sorry for my failure and the excessive delay)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters, nor do I own the premise of the doujinshi "Don't Think I'm Yours Just Because We Kissed."**

* * *

_**So What If We Kissed Once?**_

"_Stupid America…"_

The student body president sauntered down the halls of Europe's prestigious World Academy, a vein throbbing in his head…right next to a bandage.

That ridiculous excuse for a country had managed to run him over with his bike yet again, and our poor president was just getting out of the nurse's office yet again. Seychelles was waiting for the blonde at his locker, her hands folded over her books and her brow knitted with concern.

Her expression immediately brightened when she saw him walking toward her.

"Hello England, are you feeling better?"

"Fine, thank you, Seychelles. Were you waiting for me?" he asked with a small smile and her cheeks turned a pale pink as she nodded.

"Yes, I wanted to make sure you were feeling better." He smiled and pat her head.

"Thank you, I appreciate that. But you'd better be off to class before you're late."

"Alright." She scampered off and he moved to open his locker, feeling a little bit more positive than he had before.

* * *

"So, America ran you over with his bike again, hm?" England sighed a bit as France and Japan took their seats across from him.

"It's becoming a bit of a regular occurance, isn't?"

"Just kindly refrain from burning my phone along with his bike. I still have two payments," France stated, frowning a bit and Japan began to open his bento box.

"I don't understand why you two are still fighting. I mean, didn't you work things out when you started drinking together a few weeks ago?" England felt his cheeks heat up and he quickly cast his gaze to the side as nonchalantly as he could.

"Hardly. I don't even remember that night." Truth be told, all he could remember was that morning.

Waking up in bed with America…their faces so close.

Despite the slight stench of alcohol on their breaths, they had shared a rather heated series of kisses before Japan had interrupted them and snapped them back to reality.

As much as he hated to admit it, England still remembered the taste of his tongue and the butterflies in his stomach, and those sensations haunted his dreams frequently. But he would never reveal such a thing to France or Japan.

Besides, it had all been a fluke. They'd both refused to mention the kiss again, and had returned to their normal, bickering routine.

And, admittedly, it was tiring.

England continually wished America would just start acting more responsible for a change and stop giving him a reason to constantly nag at him and discipline him. Although…he did have a particular habit for always trying to catch America in the act of misbehaving.

He constantly told himself it was simply because he **knew** America would act out of line. And as the student body president, it was his duty to correct this behavior! He definitely didn't have any ulterior motives for always singling out America. No, no. It's not like he wanted an excuse to constantly berate the rather attractive, dirty-blonde rebel.

Besides, America was nothing more than a hotheaded, egotistical, violent, thick-skulled, muscular, intelligent, funny…

"Damn it!" the Brit suddenly snapped, slamming his fists on the table. His green eyes cast up to the startled expressions of France and Japan and he felt his cheeks redden as he felt the eyes of the entire cafeteria fall on him. "I, uh, forgot I had an assignment due next class. I have to go!" He fumbled for his bag and hurried out of the cafeteria, his blush deepening a bit.

* * *

"Geez, America, I just don't understand you."

"Oh, stuff it, Canada!" America grumbled, frowning.

"At this rate, you and England are never going to get along!" he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't understand why you don't be more honest with yourself and just tell England how you feel about him," Austria sighed as he moved a pawn and took one of Germany's pieces, causing him to curse under his breath.

"If America wants to beat up on England, then let him," Germany muttered gruffly, moving a knight. "It's his choice, after all."

"Thank you, Germany!" America stated.

"Sure, you should be allowed to hate whomever you want to hate, ja?"

"Yeah, I-"

"But he doesn't hate England," Austria stated firmly.

"He keeps going back and forth," Canada sighed, combing a hand through his hair.

"Really? Sounds like me with Italy," Germany mused thoughtfully.

"Check!" Austria said.

"Hey! Don't talk about me like I'm not in the room!" America protested, flailing his arms around.

"But you **do** like England, right?" Austria asked, quirking a brow and America blushed slightly, looking to the side.

"It's…I mean…I don't completely dislike him, I guess…" he mumbled with a frown. "He just pisses me off all the time."

"You sure you aren't German?" Germany asked as he moved another piece. America scowled a bit.

"Positive!" He rested his head against the palm of his hand and looked outside the window, frowning.

Truth be told, he never really knew what to do when it came to England. He was cute, that much was a given. But there were plenty of cute people in the world, and plenty of cute people he hated as well.

But with England…well, he knew that, no matter how much he tried, he could never seem to completely hate him.

He always wished he could watch England smile, as opposed to seeing that angry expression or, even worse, the hurt in those emerald green eyes. But seeing him smile so easily for others and never for him…it made him sick and angry.

And the cycle repeats itself.

That morning when they kissed hadn't done anything to help their relationship, aside from adding a mixture of confusion. He constantly remembered that morning, and wondered…what might have happened if Japan had not come along to wake them up…

His face reddened more and he jumped up.

"I'm going out for some fresh air!" he said quickly, marching past them. America shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked outside, scowling a bit. "Stupid England…" he mumbled. "If he didn't always have to piss me off, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"England!" he heard a familiar voice yell and he froze before diving into the nearby bushes. America peered out from between the leaves and saw Seychelles running by, waving her arms. He followed her and felt his heart pause when he noticed England near the school's fountain, reading a book.

He was too far to hear what they were saying, but he did noticed England's face light up in a smile as he spoke to her, which made his stomach churn in anger.

Seychelles was regarded as one of the cutest girls in the school…and she and England were almost always together…

His fists involuntarily clenched as his thoughts began to jump to a variety of conclusions. He imagined England and Seychelles walking together hand-in-hand, her falling asleep against him while they studied, having a picnic in the park, stealing kisses between classes…

Before long, he was positively fuming as Seychelles waved and skipped away from England happily, allowing the Brit to return to his book. America clawed his way out of the bush, random leaves and twigs sticking out of his hair.

"That damn England…" he said, dusting off and storming in the direction of the fountain, his blood boiling with frustration. He knew it was a stupid idea to even approach him, but he was beyond reason at this point.

So, before he knew it, he was looming over him and their eyes met.

"America? What are you doing?" he asked, quirking a brow.

"Heh, the question should be, 'what are you doing?'"

"Er…reading?" he said, his gaze shifting a bit as he felt his nerves tighten with a small dose of anxiety from the dark look in America's eye.

"I meant your shameless flirting with Seychelles. It was disgusting!"

"I-I beg your pardon?!" England shrilled, his ears turning red. "I was doing nothing of the sort!"

"Don't give me any of that. You looked so pathetic and desperate, as if a girl as cute as her would ever want to go out with someone like you." And for that instant, England's eyes displayed such a surge of hurt that America literally felt like his heart was being wrung.

The next moment genuinely shocked him as England brought his hand across America's face, knocking America's glasses off.

"Y-you bloody git! Who the hell even asked you?!" he shouted before running off, leaving America completely stunned as he brought a hand up to his stinging cheek.

England ran through the trees on the school grounds and continued to run until he finally found himself at the fence that signaled the end of the grounds. His shoulders trembled as he dropped his book and gripped the metal of the fence, tears coursing down his face.

America had said rude and even hurtful things in the past…but today…

He's never heard so much hate in his voice, nor had he ever heard so much absolute disgust.

"_You looked so pathetic and desperate, as if a girl as cute as her would ever want to go out with someone like you."_

"…_looked so pathetic and desperate, as if a girl…would ever want to go out with someone like you."_

"…_so pathetic and desperate…someone like you."_

His heart throbbed painfully as those vicious words repeated themselves over and over.

It didn't even matter that he was talking about Seychelles. Those words expressed America's disgust and hatred of him, and it was so unimaginably cruel.

"I hate you!" he blurted out, tears bursting onto the grass blades at his knees as he tightened his hold on the fence. "I hate you so much, America! Y-you heartless bastard!"

* * *

"England, what's the matter with you? You've barely said anything for two days." England shrugged his shoulders a bit.

"I'm fine. Just have a headache."

"You've had a headache for the past two days," France said, staring at him worriedly. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it, now leave me alone!" England snapped dismissively. France sighed and got up, leaving the Brit to sulk alone. He walked outside where Seychelles was standing at the school gate, looking rather nervous.

France looked up to see America riding up on his bike, late as usual.

"S-stop, America!" Seychelles stammered out. "You're late again! That means you have t-Hey!" America rode past her and up to the spot he normally parked his bike, not bothering to take off his headphones. France sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Something tells me our president's moodiness has to do with America again…" he mumbled.

"Eh? What makes you say that?" Seychelles asked, blinking.

"That's always the reason…" the flamboyant blonde sighed, flipping some of his hair. "I'd better not take any chances this time." He pursed his lips and snapped as an idea came to him. "_Je le sais_!"

* * *

"France, where are you taking me?!" England snapped irritably.

"You'll see, just be patient!" he chirped, grinning as he dragged the irritated Brit through town. It was Saturday night, so the streets were filled with students, all out having a good time…save for England, who personally preferred to be at home.

They fought through the crowd and England felt his irritation rise as they entered a popular pub.

"You have got to be kidding me…"

"Come on, England, just a few drinks!"

"No way! Last time you gave me alcohol, I was rat arsed!"

"I promise I won't let you get wasted."

"Bull…" France yanked him inside and ordered them both a pint, which England had no choice but to accept. They drank a few together and the room became a bit warmer with each additional drink, until England felt very light.

"So how are we feeling, England?" France asked, grinning.

"Pretty good…" he sighed, smiling serenely. "You were right, I needed to get out of the house."

"That you did! Come on, I have one more thing I want to show you!" he said, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the pub. England hiccupped and stumbled after France, his head spinning from the sudden movement.

France dragged him to a nightclub and grinned when he noticed Japan in position.

"Perfect…"

"What was that?" England asked and France grinned.

"Nothing, nothing. Come on, let's go dance!"

"Um…I'm not really that good of a dancer…"

"Come on, England, live a little!" He tried to protest, but France pulled him out onto the floor as a new techno song began to play. England awkwardly tried to mimic France's movements and eventually began to get more comfortable.

France grinned and spun England, causing him to bump into someone.

"Sorry, mate," he slurred, grinning sheepishly.

"Eh, England?!"

"A-America?!"

"That's our cue to leave!" France chirped, hooking arms with Japan. "Have fun you two!"

"Hey wai-" But they were long gone before America could even budge. He growled a little.

"Those sneaky bastards!" England frowned and pushed himself away from America.

"I'm going home," he grumbled as he tried to move away, but only managed to stumble and America had to catch him.

"Don't tell me France got you drunk…"

"What d'you care?!" England snapped, glaring up at him. America rolled his eyes.

"I don't…but I can't leave you out here alone. You'll probably get raped or something."

"How sentimental…"

"Just put your arm around me," he grumbled. England draped his arm over America's shoulders and America wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him close to him before helping him walk out of the club.

They trudged through the town at a snail's pace, America groaning a bit. He still felt incredibly guilty for the other day, and this wasn't exactly how he wanted to deal with England again…

"Why do you hate me so much, America?" England mumbled suddenly and he blinked and looked down at him.

"What makes you think I hate you?"

"Tch, don't be stupid. You've said it before, obviously. Not to mention you seem to think I'm so disgusting that nobody would want to associate with me."

"That isn't true!" America insisted.

"Don't lie to me!" he snapped, pushing America and falling clumsily onto his bum.

"Come on, dude, quit making this difficult."

"Don't touch me!"

"England…"

"I said don't touch me!"

"Look, I have to get you home, so you're just going to have to shut up and deal with me for a bit longer." England scowled and grumbled in protest as America helped him back up and took him back to his room, dropping him onto the bed with a sigh.

"_Well this all feels familiar…"_

He shook his head and England grabbed a pillow and hugged it, closing his eyes and sighing a bit. America swallowed a bit and reluctantly reached over to stroke England's hair.

"…I didn't mean what I said before…" England's eyes cracked open but he didn't look up at America. "I was angry and didn't think…I'm sorry if it hurt you."

"…it did…" England said softly. America hesitated for a moment before he sat on the edge of England's bed.

"I'm sorry." England shut his eyes and snuggled up to his pillow.

"I don't really hate you, America."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah…I like you." America felt his cheeks heat up a bit and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"You sure that isn't the booze talking?"

"Pretty sure." He yawned and began to fall asleep and America sat there and watched as he drifted off to sleep.

"I like you too, England…"

* * *

The next morning, England woke up with a throbbing headache and sat up, moaning a bit. He moved his leg and blinked when it struck something foreign before he looked down to see America, curled up in a ball at the foot of the bed, dead asleep.

He blushed and reluctantly crawled over, nudging him.

"America! Hey, America…" America groaned in protest but finally opened his eyes and glanced up at him.

"Hey England…"

"What are you still doing here?"

"Sorry…must've fallen asleep." America sat up and stretched, his back popping noisily and England sighed, gripping the sheets.

"_It's almost like that one morning…" _He shook his head and pulled the covers off.

"I-I guess I'll go wash up, then."

"Huh? Oh…ok." He went to the bathroom and began to brush his teeth and wash his face, his heart throbbing as memories flooded his mind.

"So what if we've kissed once?" he mumbled, blushing. "Doesn't mean anything now…" He dabbed his face with a towel and walked out of the bathroom to find America still sitting on his bed. "Eh? You're still here?"

"Sorry, did you want me to leave?"

"W-well I mean…you don't have to…I just…I guess I figured you would." America shrugged a bit and stood up.

"Just spacing out a bit."

"Yeah…" he said thoughtfully, combing his hand through his unruly blonde hair. America passed him and England felt his stomach tighten a bit. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed America's arm and pressed his mouth to his.

America's eyes widened and England practically jumped back as he realized what he'd done.

"I…I'm sorry, I don't know wh-mmph!" America cut him off with his mouth, his arm looping around his waist as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss.

He pulled back for breath and they panted a bit. America knew he should stop this…but England's parted lips simply urged him to thrust his tongue back inside that sweet mouth. And England certainly wasn't about to object, his arms winding around America's neck.

Their tongues and mouths got reacquainted as they fell back onto England's bed together, pressing close together.

They occasionally paused for air before resuming their heated kisses, not wanting to say anything or even think about anything other than how good it felt.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Hey England, did you make it home in one piece?" France chirped from the other side of the door.

"Are they going to make a habit of this…" America grumbled against England's lips. Unlike before, they didn't jump apart. Instead, England merely smirked a little and shrugged before looking at the door.

"Yes, now let me sleep off this bloody handover, you git!" he snapped at France, only to hear a chuckle on the other side of the door.

"Cranky. Alright, sleep well!"

"Well played," America mumbled and England chuckled.

"Thank you. Now then, where were we?" he purred before reconnecting their mouths.

Yes, this certainly was much better than constant fighting. But, admittedly, couples who fight a lot do tend to enjoy making up afterwards…and England and America will soon find out that they are no exception.

* * *

**Hooray for Hetalia! and hooray for yaoi! Now, if anyone wants to know what France said earlier, he basically said "I know!" in French.**

**If you all have not read the original doujinshi this was inspired by, I advise you check it out. It's super cute! I appreciate constructive criticism, just don't mindlessly bash or flame if you please, or Russia will eat your soul. **


End file.
